


Learn To Live Without Shadows

by Cavatica



Series: Breaking and Entering [10]
Category: Animorphs - Katherine A. Applegate
Genre: Aliens and Gender, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Gender Issues, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mind Control, Parent-Child Relationship, Trans Marco, Trans Tobias
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:41:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cavatica/pseuds/Cavatica
Summary: It turns out that when your mother is possessed by an evil brain slug who doesn’t have a real gender, she’s more likely to let you transition. The only tradeoff is that you’ll feel really weird about it later. And when your boyfriend is an alien and you’re fighting a space war, it really makes you reevaluate how important your gender is in the grand scheme of things.





	1. Edriss

His mom always told him not to put his feet up on the car dash. His dad didn’t care. Technically, Marco was with his mom, but he was alone in the car, so no one could stop him. He kicked his heels gently up and down, his sneakers scuffing the windows sometimes, when they could reach. 

Marco sighed and peered between his red Chuck Taylors at the front of Jake’s house. It wasn’t too different from his own house; they lived just down the street. He’d been there at least a million times. But this time, when his mom asked him if he wanted to go in or stay in the car, he said he’d wait for her. Now he couldn’t stop staring at the window to Jean’s office and wonder what they were saying behind the curtains. He probably didn’t want to know. He kinda knew. He was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear it. Not from someone who was basically his second mom.

Forcing himself to look away, he glanced over at the book his mom had left shoved between her seat and the center console. He gripped a corner and pulled it out.  _ The Left Hand of Darkness.  _ It was way thicker than any book he’d ever made it all the way through. There was no way he’d be able to focus on reading, but it was all he had in the car to keep himself from imagining the conversation the moms were having. The back cover said it was about aliens. Marco liked aliens.

Just as he was cracking the book open, a sharp tap on the window made him jump and sit up straight. He couldn’t hear him, but he could definitely see Jake snickering at him behind his hand from the other side of the car door. 

Marco cranked the handle to roll the window down.

“What’s the situation in the trenches?” Marco asked. He sounded cool, aloof, like he totally didn’t care and could totally joke about what was happening in there.

Jake shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and rolled back on his heels. “Well. Eva told me to go to my room.”

“And?”

“And I did, then I waited like five minutes, then I snuck downstairs and listened at the crack in the door.” Jake looked proud of himself. He wasn’t exactly great at the whole sneaky thing. Marco had been handling that since they were in like, preschool. Maybe Marco was kinda proud of him too.

Jake raised his eyebrows and leaned down like he was going to whisper a secret. Nervously, Marco leaned back a little, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “Your mom is yelling like, a  _ lot _ .”

Marco sucked in a quick breath. She used to yell all the time. He’d have thought it was normal a couple years ago. But she had started doing yoga and stuff. At this point, it’d been so long since she completely lost her cool, things must have gotten really bad with Jean. He opened the book to a random page and pretended he’d been reading it all along. He wasn’t upset. He was fine. His chest felt tight and his throat was burning, but it was fine.

“Hey,” Jake said. He reached down and touched Marco’s shoulder. Marco felt the heat spread up from his throat to his face and he pulled away. 

Instead of backing off, Jake reached through the window, pulled up the knob to unlock the car, and got in next to Marco. They barely fit in one seat together anymore; Marco was shoved up against the console and Jake was hanging halfway out. It didn’t really matter, because Jake’s arms were around Marco and he was giving him a really tight hug. The heat spread all the way up to Marco’s eyes and he grit his teeth against the feeling. He super wasn’t about to cry. No way.

“My mom’s known you since we were, like, babies,” Jake said. Marco buried his face in Jake’s shoulder and Jake patted his newly short hair. “She doesn’t get it now, but it’s super obvious once you explained it. And it’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a really big  _ fucking _ deal, Jake,” Marco mumbled into Jake’s dumb Lakers jersey that looked really bad on him, especially in the summer when he didn’t have to layer anything under it. Jake had really grown, too. Before school let out, Marco and Jake could both have worn that jersey as a dress, and now it fit Jake like a normal baggy shirt. He still didn’t look cool in it though.

“You owe me a dollar for every time you said ‘fuck’ while I was gone.”

Marco looked up over Jake’s shoulder to see his mom. She was smiling, but it wasn’t her usual crooked grin or her offhand smirk. It was the forced smile she used when someone told a bad joke or said something dumb about politics. It didn’t make Marco feel better.

“Back atcha’,” Marco muttered. “Bet you owe me more.” 

He shoved Jake away with his elbow, and Jake stood up next to Eva. He was taller than her now. Weird. Eva must have thought so too, because she looked up at Jake like that was totally unreasonable.

“Are you and my mom still friends?” Jake asked, sincerely concerned.

Eva rubbed her hand up and down Jake’s back and settled her hand on his shoulder. “Jean and I have been friends since we put you two in the same daycare and decided you were gonna get married when you grew up.”

Marco wrinkled his nose. “That joke is even dumber if we’re both boys, Mom.”

Eva threw her head back and laughed, looking more like herself. “Right. Jake, keep working on Jean. She’ll come around.” Jake snapped to attention and saluted her. She grinned, and this time it was genuine. “Good boy. We’re gonna head out.” She paused, then continued. “Thanks for being such a good friend, kid.”

“Duh, he’s still the same person,” Jake said. “My mom’s being so dumb. See you later, Marco.”

The boys waved to each other and Eva peeled out of the Berensons’ driveway, her tires squealing. She went in the opposite direction of their house. Marco didn’t know where she was going, and he didn’t really care. Now that it was just him and his mom, he couldn’t keep the tears in. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him sobbing uncontrollably when she found him in the bathroom sitting in a pile of hair with scissors still in his hand.

At least she pretended not to notice. She just kept driving with the windows down and the radio up until Marco was just sniffling. Eventually, he reached forward and turned the volume down. 

“Jean doesn’t believe me. Why do you get it but she doesn’t?” he sniffed.

Eva tightened her grip on the steering wheel and looked down at him, totally ignoring the road. After a second she looked up and swerved back into her lane. 

“Maybe because I know how complicated life can be,” she said. She looked thoughtful. “People like you and me? We’re playing life on a harder difficulty setting. That just makes us better at the game, once we get through the tough levels. I love Jean, but she’s playing on easy.”

“You don’t think it’s stupid that I’m like this, do you?”

“You’re not stupid,” she said quickly. “You’re my son; obviously you’re brilliant. And I guess Peter probably contributed some.” 

Marco looked down at his mom’s book, still in his lap. She called him her “son,” and that made him feel choked up again. “Why do you believe me, though? I just said I’m a boy and you like, flipped a switch. Dad’s trying, but I can tell he thinks we’re insane.”

Eva frowned. “You know what’s really insane? Gender.” 

Eva slammed the brakes so she wouldn’t blow a stop sign and Marco pitched forward into the seat belt.  _ The Left Hand of Darkness  _ slipped out of his lap and into the floorboard. She started driving and talking again at the same time, using one hand to accentuate what she was saying, like her own made-up sign language. 

“For some people, gender isn’t even a thing. It’s not a question, not even a blip on the radar. A body’s just a body. But even if gender is just some dumb, made-up thing, if it were possible to try out different bodies… I think most people would inherently know which body felt more right. And that feeling can be very important to them.”

Marco furrowed his brows. He didn’t completely follow, but that seemed right. His parents had only been calling him Marco for two days and he still felt the difference every time. “Is it important to you?”

Eva glanced at him again, then abruptly laid on her horn for a few seconds because she’d almost run into the person stopped in front of of her. Marco winced. 

“It is,” she answered, after passing the SUV illegally. “I know I’m more comfortable in a woman’s body. And I know it’s hard to have to live as the wrong gender day after day.”

Marco was usually skeptical when people said things like “I know how you feel,” but something about the way his mom sounded so sure made him believe her. He sighed. “I wish it was that easy for Dad to understand.”

“ _ Mijo _ , I’m gonna be honest, you’ve been more like yourself the last couple days than you’ve been in the last few  _ years _ . This is so much easier to fix than if there was something actually wrong with you. When he sees that, he’ll get it. He’ll just be relieved we don’t have to worry so much anymore.”

Marco’s voice caught in his throat. “You guys were worried?”

“You’re a fun, sweet, thoughtful person. But you’ve been so moody and depressed. We thought it was our fault, but it went on even after your dad and I worked things out. Of course we worried.”

The cogs were working in Marco’s head. His mom was being unbelievably understanding. They were both super vulnerable. Maybe a little guilt added into the mix would milk even more out of this situation. He still needed an all-new wardrobe before he started middle school next month. “You’ve been so busy lately that I thought maybe you hadn’t even noticed.”

“My job is important, but it’s not more important than getting you what you need. I can’t do my job and worry about you at the same time,” she said. “I know I work a lot. But it doesn’t mean I don’t love you more than anything on Earth.” With a wry grin on her face, she added, “After all, you’re just like me.”

Marco snorted and shook his head. He watched the town thin out around them. His mom signalled that she was turning off onto the 101. 

“Where are we even going?” he asked, finally.

“L.A.,” she said. “You did okay for an eleven-year-old amateur, but we need to fix that hair.”

He thought the conversation was over. He picked up the book from the floor, ready to at least try to read it if he was going to be locked in a car with his mom’s crazy driving and not even a GameBoy to keep him occupied.

“You know, Jake is wrong,” Eva said quietly. She stared straight ahead at the road, for once.

“What?”

“You don’t have to be the same person. You’re  _ my  _ son. You can be anyone you want to be.”


	2. Tobias

It was rare that Marco and Tobias were ever alone together; so rare that Marco had to orchestrate it. Obviously he had a purpose, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t kinda fun to convince Jake and Rachel to both take Cassie on a date at the same time. They didn’t know it was a date, but it totally was.

Ax hadn’t been at the meeting, so when Jake, Rachel, and Cassie left for their matinee, Marco and Tobias were alone together. Tobias was obsessively grooming up in the rafters, and feathers were drifting to the ground in a soft cascade. Cassie had explained that he was molting for the first time, and that he’d probably be pretty tired and stressed because of it. Marco knew the bird life hadn’t been treating Tobias great lately. That just meant that it was the perfect time to confront him.

“Do you think I don’t see the way you stare at me?” Marco said, keeping his voice low.

Tobias froze, his beak still buried in his chest feathers. <Uh, what?>

“When we morph. You look at everyone. But you _ stare _ at me.” Marco crossed his arms when Tobias didn’t say anything. “If you just friggin’ stop, I won’t tell the others what a creep you are.”

<I’m not a creep.>

Tobias sounded hurt. Good. It wasn’t like it felt great for Marco when he knew why Tobias was staring.

“Yeah? So what do you call it when someone stares obsessively at someone else in skintight clothes? Huh? You got a crush on me too? Rachel  _ and _ Jake aren’t enough?”

<No!>

“So what are you so curious about, Tobias?” Marco knew Tobias was a coward. He wanted him to squirm as much as Marco had when he noticed the first couple times Tobias wouldn’t take his eyes off him. “ _ Say it, _ you perverted freak. What are you looking at?”

Tobias flared his wings like he was being threatened and he was about to fly off. A cloud of feathers blew out around him. <I—I can tell. You don’t… you don’t…>

“ _ Everyone  _ can tell, Tobias! We’re wearing ugly spandex like if the X-Men were forced to shop at Dick’s Sporting Goods.” Marco snorted. “ _ Dick’s _ . I’m so fucking funny.”

Tobias shifted his talons along the rafter and plucked a few feathers out of his wing. It looked like it hurt. <So you really… don’t have…?>

“Do you think that means you get to stare at me like it’s some mysterious puzzle? What’s in Marco’s pants, a Rubik’s Cube? We just don’t know!” Marco put his hands on his hips and glared up at Tobias. “Didn’t your shitty, white trash family teach you it’s rude to stare at people’s missing limbs or deformities, or y’know, their  _ crotches _ ? Seems pretty basic to me. Then again, I’m a person, not an animal.”

Tobias just stared at him, perfectly still, his gold eyes as hard as they ever were. His gaze still made Marco’s skin crawl. Marco wished it were possible to make him cry. That would be so much more satisfying.

<I’m not a creep,> Tobias repeated finally. <I’m just… confused.>

Marco threw up his hands. “Some people’s genders don’t match their junk. It’s not that freaking complicated.” 

<I didn’t know that was possible,> Tobias said, in thought-speak so faint it was like a whisper.

Marco squinted up at him. Marco thought about the person he used to be, the person who didn’t exist anymore, with long straggly hair and baggy clothes and a face like he was constantly running from something. Marco lifted an eyebrow. Now  _ he  _ was interested. He’d give Tobias a little and see where it went.

“It  _ wouldn’t  _ have been possible without—” Marco cleared his throat. “Without my mom. She let me do it. Two years ago. Not everyone’s as lucky as me.” Marco laughed bitterly. He was the luckiest guy, with his dead mom and his vegetable dad and an alien invasion to deal with. 

After another minute of awkward silence, Marco said, “So will you stop looking at me when I’m half-naked and my limbs are slorping around? If you really wanna scope someone out, like, not to be lewd or anything, but have you  _ seen _ Jake?” Marco held his hands approximately a foot and a half apart from each other.

<Gross! Now who’s the creep?> Tobias snapped.

“I’m just sayin’, like, damn. Share some with the rest of us.”

<Speak for yourself.>

“I am. Duh.”

Marco thought the conversation was over, so he stood up, brushed the hay off the front and back of his jeans, and started for the door.

<Hey,> Tobias said hesitantly. Marco turned back to look at him. <How did you know?>

Marco shrugged. “I just knew trying to be a girl felt wrong.”

<What if everything feels wrong?>

Marco frowned. Maybe he had some suspicions about Tobias after this conversation, but he had zero desire to psychoanalyze him. After all, even if Tobias did have some gender stuff going on, that was just the tip of the iceberg. He was a tangled mess of issues that would probably take like a dozen psychiatrists, plus an ornithologist, to figure out. And it wasn’t like it was Marco’s responsibility to guide every wayward soul to their true identity.

Marco toed his kickstand up and threw his leg over his bike. “Well. Good thing you’re a bird now, huh?”

Marco biked home feeling like they were even.


	3. Ax

Ax understood more than he let on. Obviously, the others knew he was super smart, but Marco thought they let how goofy he was in human morph and how, well,  _ alien _ he was when he was an Andalite get in the way of really seeing him. No one else but Tobias seemed to pick up on how much he’d grown and learned since they found him. 

It was kind of a running joke to agree with Ax when he claimed that he was very good at passing for human. But considering where he’d started and where he was now, it wasn’t  _ that much  _ of a joke anymore. He was an actual alien who’d been plunged against his will into a culture that was inconceivably different from his own. He’d adapted. Ax was kind of amazing, when Marco thought about it.

In that moment, he was also dipping Cool Ranch Doritos into Hershey’s chocolate syrup. But he was doing it over a plate. That’s what you call character growth.

They were in Marco’s living room; his dad and Nora were at some kind of teachers’ conference and would be gone the whole weekend. Peter had told Marco not to have Ax over, but he’d looked into Marco’s eyes when he agreed, and Marco was pretty sure they both knew he was a dirty liar.

His dad had nothing to worry about anyway. Peter had basically made Marco swear off sex forever when he’d stumbled very quickly and awkwardly over the word “pregnancy” during the safe sex speech when Marco had turned fifteen, way before he even knew for sure Marco was also into dudes. Marco had already put in his application for the priesthood, and he hadn’t even been to mass since way before his mom was taken.

Even though they’d never had sex, Marco and Ax did fool around. And they’d never actually  _ talked _ about Marco’s whole situation, but Ax had also never done anything that made Marco want to push the brakes either. No one else thought of Ax as sensitive or subtle. Not socially, anyway. But either he was exactly that, or he was so clueless about humanity that he didn’t even know anything was weird about Marco. That’d be kind of refreshing too, in a way.

Marco looked over at him, sitting cross-legged on the opposite side of the couch, still committing crimes against food. He was a repeat offender. It was hard to break the cycle of criminality. Ax was a tragic victim of society, when it came down to it.

Marco cleared his throat to get Ax’s attention. Ax was in the middle of cramming like six dripping Doritos into his mouth at once, but he turned his head and his plate at the same time. Such amazing progress. 

“Are there people like me on the Andalite homeworld?” Marco asked. He tried to sound casual about it. Probably Ax wouldn’t pick up on how forced he sounded. After all, he thought the acting on  _ Days of Our Lives  _ was good.

<No,> Ax answered immediately. His response was quick and flippant. Marco was pretty sure that was his idea of a joke.

“Can you please not talk and eat at the same time? Just because you can thought-speak while you stuff your face doesn’t mean you should.”

Ax took some time to chew, then he ran his tongue all the way around his lips as far as it would reach. He looked delighted. This wasn’t the first time Marco had questioned his own taste, and he knew it wouldn’t be the last. 

“You’re lucky you’re so cute,” he said, passing Ax the entire roll of paper towels he’d brought into the living room. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation, Ax. Do you know what I mean by ‘people like me’?”

Ax wiped the slobber off his face and set his snack down on the coffee table. “I am being serious. I have never met an Andalite like you.” Ax’s eyes drifted to one side and he muttered, “ _ You _ are fun.”

“Well, okay, that’s kinda sad and not what I’m asking, but thanks.”

“Is the serious conversation over yet? It is out of character, and I believe I’m having a human anxiety response.”

Marco snorted and scooted a little closer to Ax. “Don’t worry, I’m just curious about Andalite culture.”

Ax’s eyebrows disappeared up into his curls. “That is unusual.”

“Yeah, I get it, I’m usually so shallow. It’s part of my charm,” Marco said. Now he just felt like he was stalling. Maybe Ax really didn’t understand. Maybe this would be a super awkward conversation. “You know how I’m different from the rest of the humans on the team?”

“Yes.” Ax nodded sagely. He counted off on his fingers. “You are smaller. Your skin and hair are darker than Prince Jake’s, but lighter than Cassie’s. You have more than two parents in your family arrangement. You employ a more generous amount of humor than the others. You know more about science fiction, standup, and romantic comedy…”

“That last part’s a secret,” Marco said. He pinched the bridge of his nose, realized he was reminding himself of Jake, and grabbed his own shoulder to have somewhere to put his hand. “No, dude. I mean how I’m not like most guys. Like, have you noticed that I’m  _ physically _ different from Jake and your human morph?”

“ _ Ohh _ ,” Ax said, as if what Marco was getting at had just dawned on him. “I see. You are attempting to talk about human sexual dimorphism. I have noticed your physical differences from Jake and this morph. Is there significance to your variation from the average male anatomy?”

Marco took a deep breath. So Ax was both observant and oblivious. Typical Ax. “Yeah,” he said, combing his fingers through his hair. “You know how you almost never see gay people on TV? And when you do they’re like, jokes or dying? You  _ never _ see people like me on TV.”

Ax tilted his head to one side a bit. “Are you sure it isn’t because most humans wear clothing, and without interacting with someone intimately, you cannot be sure if their gender identity is aligned with their physical traits?”

“Ax, we’ve gone over the difference between fiction and reality. Maybe some actors are like me, I dunno, probably not. But the  _ characters _ aren’t.” Marco puffed out a small sigh. “Most humans don’t understand. According to society, we’re gross and wrong. Some people might even kill me if they knew.”

Ax looked troubled and kind of angry. It was an expression Marco had never really seen him make in human morph. “More irrational social stigmas.” He rearranged his legs so he could properly face Marco. “Of course this type of variation exists among Andalites. The equivalent of your condition isn’t uncommon, but if you were an Andalite, it would have already been corrected. 

“An Andalite’s gender is easily discerned from infancy or even before birth, via thought patterns and telepathic expression. An atypical physical configuration is only noticeable as the tail blade develops. When it is identified, it is corrected the same as we would any other non-disabling congenital condition.”

“Yeah?” Marco thought about what it would have been like if his parents could have just psychically known all along. Ax made it sound easy. “So uh, Andalites don’t try to figure out what sex a baby is from its genitals?”

Ax looked blankly at Marco, as if that was the most backwards thing he’d ever heard of. Now that he was explaining it to a literal alien, Marco kind of agreed. “No.”

“It’s not easier than asking an actual baby what pronouns it prefers?”

Ax looked away, his neck and cheeks flushing. So he could talk about human sex characteristics all day, but the second Marco asked about Andalites, he got bashful. Finally, he looked up at the ceiling and said quickly, “Male and female Andalites have identical genitals.”

Marco felt his eyebrows shoot up and he bit his lower lip. “Well.  _ That’s _ interesting. Convenient, streamlined design. I don’t suppose you’d tell me how that works with the whole…” Marco made an OK sign with one hand and poked his finger in and out of it. Ax frowned and Marco could see his cheeks getting redder. “Of course not, Seerow’s Kindness and all.”

Ax snorted and grinned, his freckles standing out against the rosiness of his face. Marco liked embarrassing him; it made him even cuter. This was the most Marco had ever talked about this to anyone. Maybe because Ax was an alien and they were just talking about their different cultures. Maybe because Marco could literally become anything he wanted now. Maybe because all of it was way less distressing than the horror of losing the war looming closer and closer.

Marco was glad that he was at a point where he had his priorities so straight. 

He reached for the remote, grabbed a couple chips, and turned on the Prevue Channel to see what was on. He resituated himself so that he was leaning on Ax and taking up almost all of the couch. He rested his head on Ax’s elbow and let himself kinda zone out watching the listings slowly tick by. 

“Marco?” Ax asked, and Marco looked up at him. “Does your condition bother you?”

“Eh,” Marco said noncommittally. “Yeah. Less than it used to. I guess your body feels kind of meaningless after everything we do? In the morning, I look down, oh no, no dick! Is that worse than being in battle, I look down, oh no, my guts are on the ground!  _ Again _ . Like, I can be utterly annihilated and then just  _ shwoop!”  _ Marco made an exploding gesture with both hands. “Right back to my usual adorable self. Is this even still my body? Who fuckin’ knows anymore.” Ax frowned down at him. He didn’t look satisfied. 

Marco wormed even closer, folded his arms on Ax’s lap, and laid his head down so that he wouldn’t have to look at him. “It was really bad before, fuck, before  _ Visser One _ helped me transition or whatever.” He was glad he couldn’t see Ax’s face. “I started at a new school and no one recognized me—I was a total nothing before. Like, practically Tobias-level. But it’s okay now. Sometimes I forget about it, even. Mostly because I’m so friggin’ terrified all the time.”

“If it was such a problem, and it still bothers you, why haven’t you had it corrected?”

Marco grunted. “How do Andalites fix it?”

“We use gene therapy to alter chromosomal irregularities and hormonal differences. DNA resequencing via medical morphing is used to change any physical issues like correcting the tail blade or altering the fur color to be more gender-suitable. Treatment is generally performed before an Andalite reaches their first birthday, so there is almost no social or emotional impact.” He said it like all of that was very obvious and simple.

Marco snorted bitterly, and turned so he was on his back, with his head still in Ax’s lap. Looking up at him, in a voice like he was telling a scary story, he said, “We mostly chop pieces off of people one at a time until they feel as happy with themselves as they’re ever gonna get because surgeries aren’t perfect. Also it costs tens of thousands of dollars and takes months to recover. Also I’m a minor and no doctor would ever do it because what if I’m just a dumb kid who doesn’t know who I am?”

Ax’s face had gone at least three shades paler. “Barbaric.”

Marco raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Some might say performing extensive medical procedures on babies without their consent is barbaric, but who am I to say whose way is better?”

Ax furrowed his eyebrows. Marco looked back at the TV and watched the channel listings scroll past again, mostly so Ax wouldn’t catch how smug he was that he’d been able to work in a gotcha. Andalite superiority was even more annoying when he had to be jealous about it.

Marco was getting really warm and comfortable. The weird gender talk with his alien boyfriend hadn’t been that bad, but such a deep discussion about feelings was exhausting even when you didn’t average two hours of sleep a night. He couldn’t remember how long Ax had been in morph, but he was weighing the pros and cons of taking a nap on him. 

“So like… Is it weird for you at all?” Marco asked, and he could hear the drowsiness in his own voice.

“I mean no offense, but all human bodies are equally strange and vaguely grotesque to me. I do not care about your genitals at all except for if and how you would prefer me to interact with them.”

“Wow, Space Casanova, you’re so romantic.” Marco snuggled in and closed his eyes.


	4. Aftran

Sometimes things got so bad that even morphing dog wasn’t enough to shake it off. Sometimes you had to break out the big guns. And considering Marco had just helped his crazy boyfriend almost nuke the whole town, big guns were absolutely justified. 

Even though it was night, Marco could feel the freak storm rolling in from over the ocean. The wind was blowing his hair back behind him. It was still winter, and Marco was shivering in just his morphing outfit. He stepped up to the edge of the water and it rushed up over his feet. The water was freezing. The storm and the cold and the screaming crying terror, none of it would matter when he was a thousand feet underwater, as far as he could get from himself and the choices he’d had to make. 

He grit his teeth and waded in up to his chest, already feeling the thick layer of blubber starting to insulate him from the cold. Morphing never got any less disturbing and horrible, but it was even worse on a dark and stormy night in the middle of a total freakout. As soon as he could, Marco let go and let the dolphin brain take over.

What was he doing in such shallow water? He kicked his tail and surged forward along the slope of the sea bed, into the middle depths where he was most comfortable. He let out a burst of echolocation clicks and spotted a small school of fish a little further out. He spent some time chasing them and circling around them, having fun making them group up and letting them spread out again. That got boring after a while, so he swam down under them and then shot up and tried to bounce them up out of the water with his nose, like some kind of fish-hating sport. He ate a couple of them, but that wasn’t the point.

When he’d terrorized the fish to the point that they broke up to get away from him, he decided to dive down deeper to see what he could find. A few more clicks and it was like the dark ocean lit up all around him. There was a seal off in the distance near the surface, and with a few flicks of his tail, he was playing tag with it. Seals were way more fun than fish. 

Marco breached to take a breath and spotted the seal jumping up out of the water after him. It was full-on storming at this point, but he didn’t care. He had a new buddy. He and the seal alternated jumping up out of the water, yelling at each other in different, incomprehensible languages. Who said different species can’t get along? Give peace a chance.

Marco took a last big jump, grabbed a ton of air, and did about half a backflip. The seal dodged his big dolphin body and turned a circle around him. Marco tagged the seal with his nose and dove down, daring the seal to follow him deeper and deeper. A couple hundred feet and the seal had to cede defeat and swim back up to the surface.

Marco pulsed another series of echolocation clicks and stopped swimming for a second. A  _ great one. _ They were a couple hundred feet deeper, drifting lazily with the current. Marco whistled and squeaked to alert the  _ great one _ to his presence.

  
<Cassie?>

The thought-speak voice shook Marco out of dolphin autopilot. It took him a second to even realize who it was, because he’d never heard her thought-speak. But of course Cassie still kept in touch like she was an old friend or something.

<No,> he said coldly.   
  
<Oh, it’s you,> Aftran said, and Marco could hear her disappointment. It was mutual. He was just out here trying to have a good time; the last thing he’d wanted was to run into a big giant Yeerk.

Marco was about to return to the surface and head home, since his attempt at breaking up his constant state of panic had been ruined. He turned around, but some weird compulsion held him back. It was like his body grew heavy in the water and he could only float, motionless.

<Hey,> Marco snarled. <Using your weird cosmic whale powers to hold me down isn’t exactly in keeping with your whole reformed, not-an-evil-parasite-anymore image. What would Cassie think?>

Marco felt the pressure release, and he kicked his tail to put some distance between them. He’d only saved his mom a couple weeks ago. The thought of having a Yeerk force him to do anything made him sick.

<Sorry,> Aftran said, unexpectedly. 

Marco did a little half turn and caught her following behind him. Marco wasn’t sure who was faster. He was sleek, but she was big. He didn’t want to try to outrun her in case she Force choked him again.

<What are you, lonely?> Marco grumbled. <I’m not going to chill with you. Cassie may trust you, but I was all for killing you, and so far you haven’t proven me wrong.>

<Oh, really?> Aftran sounded amused. <Because I seem to remember helping to save your boyfriend’s life.>

Marco growled. <I didn’t know Cassie was such a gossip.>

<She’s not,> Aftran said. She swam past him and did a slow, languid barrel roll. The dolphin in the back of his brain got excited. The Marco in the front of his brain was still annoyed. <I was in her brain, remember?>

<We weren’t even together then.>

<Sure.> Yeerks were so much more sarcastic than Andalites. Assholes.

Marco sped up. The only way to get away from her was to get back to shore. He surfaced and grabbed a breath. Now that he wasn’t submerged under the dolphin brain, the angry waves and torrential rain were kind of terrifying. This had been such a stupid idea. Why did he even bother trying to feel better for a couple hours?

<I heard you killed Visser One.>

<What, is Cassie coming down here and giving you weekly updates?> Marco sputtered.

<I have contacts in the Peace Movement other than Cassie,> Aftran said, nonchalantly. <I have been following Visser One’s trial and interrogation. Her conviction of treason. Her inappropriate attachments to her three human children. And now, her very interesting death. It was almost Shakespearean. … _ The Lion King  _ is based on Shakespeare, right?>

Marco turned on her. <You ever been attacked by a dolphin? I can’t take you, but only one of us can morph and I bet I could get in some good hits.>

Aftran laughed. <Try it,> she dared.

Marco turned back around and kept heading for shore, pulsing echolocation to make sure he was still going the right way. Why had he gone out so far? Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

<Yeah, I killed your old boss,> Marco said, trying to sound bigger than he felt. <How’s that make you feel?>

<How does it make  _ you _ feel? You were her son.>

<She was my mom’s slave master,> Marco hissed. <She  _ wasn’t _ my mom, the same way  _ you _ were never a little girl.>

<Are you sure?> Aftran needled. <Because Cassie seemed to think that maybe, in some ways, you were better off.>

<Shut the  _ fuck  _ up!> Marco practically screamed at her.

The last thing Marco wanted to think about after finally rescuing his mom was how different his life would have been if Visser One hadn’t enslaved her. There was no point. He wanted to believe his real mom would have done what Visser One did for him. He  _ had  _ to believe that Visser One had only done it because she didn’t want to deal with a fucked up kid when she had an invasion to focus on. She hadn’t cared about him, he hadn’t cared about her; none of it was real. But all the same, he could never, ever talk to his mom about it. Neither of them needed that.

Quieter, he said, <You’ll always be a disgusting maggot who infected and abused a little girl. That’s all you people do; you pollute everything you touch, and no matter what you do, that’s never gonna change.>

Marco swam faster and Aftran didn’t try to catch up. He was close to the shore now, so all he had to do was get away from her. She was still trapped here. He could go anywhere he wanted. 

<You’re right,> Afran said, from some dark, distant place behind him. He’d have to echolocate her to really “see” her, but his dolphin mind could still feel her back down in the depths. <I can never atone for the things that I’ve done. None of us can until the Empire is overthrown. I irreparably harmed Karen and her family. But Edriss 562 hurt more than you and your family. She built the foundation of this invasion, and every human casualty that resulted from each one of us taking a human host is her legacy. She scarred the whole human race. 

<And you are her son, and you ended her.>

Marco froze, like Aftran had stopped him with whale magic again. She hadn’t.

His brain felt like static. The dolphin bubbled up underneath and wondered why they weren’t having fun. He forced himself to float up to the surface, its violently shifting sparkle hard to see for the darkness of the storm. He sprayed out all the old air and took a long, deep breath. 

Aftran drifted a couple dozen feet beneath him. Her presence made the dolphin inside him feel safe, secure. Marco felt the simmering burn of hatred and the festering wound Visser One had left in him. He couldn’t shift the blame for that onto Aftran. She wasn’t big enough.

<Do you understand why she did what she did? She could have ran the invasion without  _ playing _ with people the way that she did. You hurt a kid, but… not like her.> Marco asked in a voice so weak he felt naked. 

Aftran hesitated. Maybe even she couldn’t comprehend it. Maybe it was that fucked up, even for a Yeerk. Finally, she said, <I believe Visser One was truly in love with humanity. She gave birth to human children just to see what it was like. She was a mother. She loved being a mother.> Aftran paused. <As a Yeerk, when you experience something that you have never been able to experience before, that you  _ would never _ be able to experience… It’s very hard to let it go. When it came time to move on, Visser One did not have to let go; she just became a mother again.>

It was so hard to keep the dolphin down. Marco felt numb and empty, and that left space that needed to be filled with something. 

Visser One could be anyone she wanted to be, and now Marco could be any _ thing _ he wanted to be. She had let him be who he was. She’d  _ made _ him who he was—the person he’d become had been based on her, or at least who he thought she’d been. She had molded him the same way she built the invasion. He could lie to himself all he wanted, he could let things go unsaid with his mom, he could go to his grave insisting he’d hated her.

It wouldn’t change a single thing. 

Aftran was right.

He reached the shallows and started morphing when his fins were brushing the sand and his blowhole was out of the water. The rain beat down on him as his flesh and bones shifted inside him.

<Cassie isn’t the only ally whose help I could use in the Peace Movement. She values your skills. She also values you as a person, I guess, although I’m not sure I see it.>

Marco tried to project the closest thing he could to his normal thought-speak voice. It felt like he was puppeting his own carefully-crafted idea of himself. <Sorry, I’ve sworn off swimming again. It’s really not for me, after all. See you never.>

<Say hi to Cassie for me.>

In the pouring rain, Marco morphed owl for the miserable flight back to Ax’s scoop. He hated Aftran and all the rest of the Yeerks. In that moment, he hated Cassie. Most of all, he hated himself for having loved  _ her _ .


	5. Cassie

Marco swept his arm out in front of him. “First Lady Cassandra Mason, welcome to my humble abode.” 

Cassie shook her head and smiled. “I know you know my title, Marco; you introduce me at charity events without joking. Sometimes.”

“Yeah, but you’re the First Lady  _ of my heart _ .” Marco pressed a hand to his chest and batted his eyelashes at her.

She ignored him and looked around Marco’s L.A. condo. He could see her eyes taking everything in, but catching on little details. The open floor plan, the vaulted ceiling, the big windows, the skylight, the fact that there were way too many plants… she had the delicacy not to say anything. 

That’s why he’d asked her to do this in the first place. Beyond the fact that Cassie was his cherished childhood friend and also his old war buddy, she was the only person who always knew, and would always do, what was best for him, no matter what. He needed that now, but that skill of hers probably had something to do with why he was always busy when she was back in California, too.

“Where should I put my bag?” She shifted her single duffel bag as if he hadn’t noticed it already. It was  _ clearly _ from the 90s and looked like something she should be using to pack around her gym shoes. Marco was pretty sure this was her idea of luggage. He knew it was futile to try to introduce her to Mr. Gucci, or even his bargain friends Ms. Tumi or Mr. Samsonite. 

“Allow me to show you to your room,” he said in a British accent he’d perfected by imitating his butler, whom he’d left at the Santa Barbara place. He couldn’t trust that some tabloid wouldn’t someday pay enough for Wetherbee’s salacious tell-all. 

He led Cassie through the living area, into the hallway that led off to the bedrooms. His L.A. place didn’t compare to his beachfront mansion, but he’d only just moved in, and fewer paparazzi knew where it was. His show had just ended, and he’d told all the talk shows he was going to be partying in Bali for the entire season break. He was pretty sure he’d covered all his bases.

Standing in the doorway, he watched Cassie unpack her bag, carefully stack her clothes and belongings into piles on the bed, and put them away into drawers. She brushed her hands together, the way she used to when she’d just finished things up with the animals in the barn. 

She looked at Marco, and her smile was too open and sincere, like usual. “Where’s your room?” 

She picked up a pile of supplies she’d brought with her and followed him into his bedroom. She looked at, but didn’t comment on, how ludicrously huge the bed was. “You sleep on this side?” she asked, opening the drawer in his bedside table and putting some of her supplies inside.

He waved his hand. “I usually sleep like, kind of in the middle.” 

She nodded.  “Did you shop for groceries like I asked you to?”

Marco rolled his eyes. “I have  _ people  _ for that.” She stuck her tongue out at him. Real mature.

He watched her look around the room, figuring out the setup that would be easiest for both of them. He recognized the gears turning in her brain, the planning, the streamlining. He and Cassie had rarely ever been on the same page, but they’d always been on the same level. That was one reason they’d both been able to figure out what they wanted after the war, and had both been able to make it happen.

Marco was getting restless, so he left her to it and went back into his kitchen to look at the folder of lists and instructions. The words were swimming around on the page, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t already read them. He flipped through the pages just to have something to do with his hands.

Cassie came up beside him. “Nervous?” she asked gently. 

“Of course not,” Marco said. Cassie took the notes out of his shaky hands and laid them out on the counter to review. Marco turned away and pulled his phone out of his pocket, checking the time. It wasn’t even 6:30, not that Marco had gotten up early. He hadn’t slept. “Are you almost ready to go?”

Not looking up, she smiled. “Sure, if you really want to be two hours early.” 

Marco was already typing on his phone keyboard. “I can text them straight into their brain, I think they’ll have enough notice.”

Cassie left the papers in stacks on the counter. “If you’re ready, Marco.” She dug around in her messenger bag and pulled out her car keys. 

Marco followed her out to her car and tried not to groan. At least the media wouldn’t expect to see him being driven around in a ‘95 Corolla. 

They arrived at the private practice before 7:30. There were five cars in the parking lot. When they walked in, his doctor was leaning their elbow on the reception area, waiting for him. They looked like a middle-aged person, vaguely masculine, with soft features and delicate hands. He knew they were actually none of those things, but what they were was the best top surgeon in California.

The prep was kind of a blur of consenting to things and letting Cassie pay attention to the doctor and nurses. Mostly he was thinking about how his mom would eventually realize what he’d done, and that he hadn’t asked her to take care of him. 

About how Ax probably wouldn’t even be back to Earth for months. 

About how if Jake were still a person, he would have come to visit Marco during his recovery. Maybe he’d have even done something dorky like bring him flowers. But he wasn’t a person anymore, and Marco hadn’t even bothered to tell him.

About how Cassie was pretty sure that if he didn’t morph until he was fully healed, everything would stick, but there was no way to be sure that he wouldn’t go through hours of surgery and weeks of pain, and then undo everything the next time he wanted to impress potential producers by driving a golf cart in gorilla morph. He’d morphed off a hangnail like, just a week before. One time, he’d morphed because he hit his funny bone. Maybe it was a bad habit.

He felt the prick, the pressure, and the cold burn of anesthesia pushing up through the vein in his arm. He let Cassie hold his other hand.

She sounded far away when she said, “Thanks for doing this. I know we haven’t earned any more favors.”

“I was Galen’s own medical assistant, and I have been a doctor ever since,” they said, and they talked like clouds were in their mouth. They didn’t even have a real mouth. Everything was fading to black, and the last thing Marco heard was, “I didn’t agree to do this because we owe anything to Marco. We Chee are able to present as any gender we would like, at any time. Humans should at least have the opportunity to be comfortable with their bodies for their single short lifespan.”

* * *

 

“Marco,” Cassie said gently, rubbing her hand on his shoulder.

Marco groaned. He couldn’t move. He was in so much pain. Weird, that it seemed like it’d been so long since the last time he got ripped apart. He must have passed out, and now he couldn’t remember what mission they were on. Probably the delirium. Morph it away, then he’d know where he was.

“Hey,” Cassie grabbed his wrist and squeezed. “Stop it right now, you’ve gotta be Marco. I know it hurts, but you can do this.”

He opened his eyes, saw the coarse black hairs sprouting up his arm, looked at Cassie, and groaned. He reversed the morph. This was why he’d needed her. Not because she knew how to give a goose a shot, but because she wouldn’t let him cheat his way out of the pain, no matter what. Because she’d been there when he’d been on the verge of losing himself forever and something about her voice and touch brought him back even after time was up. He needed her. He didn’t like to admit it, but it was a stupid time to lie to himself.

“Sit up for me,” Cassie said, slipping her hands underneath his back and lifting gently. He hissed in a breath as she brought him into an upright position. Her arms felt so strong, which was good because he could barely help her out with lifting up his own torso. 

She handed him a few pills and a cold bottle of water with a straw bobbing out. He tossed the pills back and sucked down most of the water. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was, because everything hurt so bad. Marco couldn’t reach his own bedside table, but Cassie anticipated that, too, and set his water down for him.

“Let’s give those meds some time to take effect before we start,” she said. 

Marco used to think her soft little voice was annoying. He’d always thought it sounded put-on, like she was trying too hard to sound calm and soothing. But now he maybe knew how those sick and injured animals felt. 

If his own loud, brash mother were here, she’d have been trying to make him laugh, and that might have actually killed him. 

He’d been right to schedule this while she was in Washington, lobbying for another ex-Controllers’ rights thing. It had been a completely rational decision. Obviously Cassie was more qualified to do this than his mom. His choice had nothing to do with the fact that Marco pretended nothing had ever changed when he was a kid, that he’d just always been the way he was. It wasn’t like Eva didn’t go along with it. She didn’t want to think about it either. This was for the best, for both of them.

Maybe it was a stupid time to lie to himself, but Marco had a lot of bad habits. 

“How are you feeling?” Cassie asked. 

“Like garbage,” he croaked. 

On top of everything else, his throat was sore. Maybe this was karma. Personally, he thought saving the world should outweigh all the cars he’d scratched trying to parallel park and all the mean jokes he’d made at Tobias’ expense. If he were Tobias, the Ellimist probably would have handled this for him, but with some kind of monkey’s paw caveat to make him even more miserable. Maybe he’d make him into a girl hawk.

The old-fashioned way still sucked.

“Okay,” Cassie said, her hand on his back heavy and reassuring. “Ready to start?”

At first Marco tried to hold his breath, but Cassie coached him through breathing as she went through the motions of taking off his medical compression binder, the packing, the bandages. She moved efficiently, almost like she had years of medical experience or something. She emptied his drains, checked his bandages, replaced the packing, and pulled the binder back down over everything. It was agonizing, but Cassie had grown up treating patients who couldn’t understand what she was doing. The whole process was as quick and as gentle as she could make it.

After she was done, she rearranged and fluffed up his pillows so he could lie back as comfortably as possible. She looked him over, giving her work a final appraisal. “Would you like me to brush your hair or anything?”

“No, and I don’t want a sponge bath either,” Marco grumbled. 

Cassie sat back in her chair, and smiled. “Okay, but I don’t want to hear it when you go to the bathroom and scare yourself with your own reflection.”

That was about as close as Cassie ever got to a burn, and Marco felt himself almost smile. Maybe it was the painkillers that made him say it, or maybe it was the already uncomfortable intimacy, or maybe it was the guilt that he could trust her and no one else. Maybe it was the sadness that she was the only one he had. “Thanks for doing this for me. I know you’re still saving the world and all.”

“Huh?” Cassie said, like she was genuinely confused. “You mean you’re  _ not  _ the most important thing in the world?”

Marco stared blankly at her. Then the joke hit him, and he laughed. He immediately grabbed his ribs. “Dammit, Cassie, I picked you because you’re not supposed to have a sense of humor.” 

She took his hand and he didn’t pull it away. “I know that’s why you asked me, Marco. Don’t worry.”


	6. Ax

Ax was already in human morph when he arrived, which was annoying because it meant that he was wearing his Andalite Military uniform. It was a pretty sexy uniform, mostly because Marco had hooked Ax up with Alexander McQueen to design them and not because Andalites could be trusted to know how clothes worked. It took about five minutes to take off, though, compared to freshly-morphed Ax, who was basically already naked. Who even had the patience for that?

Ax certainly didn’t, because the second they were inside, he’d spun Marco around and pinned his shoulders against the door. It was always a toss up when he got back to Earth whether he’d be hungry or horny. A couple times, he’d been horngry, and that’d been a real mess for Marco’s housekeeper. 

Marco started working on Ax’s buttons while Ax’s mouth and hands worked on him. He’d only gotten through three of them when Ax eagerly unbuttoned Marco’s pants and slid his hand down Marco’s boxer briefs.

Marco butted his head into Ax’s shoulder and snickered. He pulled Ax’s hand up and threaded their fingers together. Marco leaned up onto his tiptoes and whispered into Ax’s ear, “Keep your hands to yourself.” 

Ax bit back a grin.

Marco pulled Ax behind him into the elevator. He smashed the button right before Ax drove him back against the wall, his hands in Marco’s hair and his tongue in his mouth. The elevator dinged open on the third floor, and Ax finished kissing him so urgently he banged their front teeth together. Marco pulled back, wrinkling his nose. Ax rubbed his own mouth and let Marco continue to pull him towards the bedroom. 

“Dude, chill out, you’ll get your chance.”

“We only have three days,” Ax pouted. 

Marco frowned, but let the disappointment roll off him. He’d save it for later. About three days later, to be exact. 

He shut the door behind him and grabbed Ax by his lapels, leading him backwards to the bed and pushing him down. He stood between Ax’s knees and kept working on his buttons. Ax was staring up at him, yielding to him. He was so pretty and sexy, and sometimes, it even felt like he was worth it. Marco’s hands stalled, and he leaned down to kiss him. 

Marco finally managed to push Ax’s jacket off his shoulders. He stepped out of his own pants and straddled Ax’s lap. Ax was still waiting obediently for Marco to give him the go ahead. He  _ loved _ being told what to do. Marco loved making him wait. Marco cupped Ax’s face in his hands and kissed him until Ax was squirming underneath him. 

Marco leaned back, and Ax made a little sound in his throat. Marco licked his lips, studying Ax’s flushed, hungry expression. No way he was nervous, with Ax looking like that underneath him. 

Marco pulled his shirt off over his head, like it was something he’d always done and had never felt weird about.

Ax’s eyes snapped down to his chest, then flicked between his eyes, back down, back up. He looked imploringly up at Marco, his eyes practically begging, like a very very hot puppy who’d been told to stay but really really wanted to come. 

Marco had never felt that hot with his shirt off.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Immediately, Ax’s hooked his hands under Marco’s thighs for leverage, lifted him up, and threw him on his back into bed. He lay back and let Ax spread his hands out over his chest. Ax watched his face, and Marco knew he was looking for any sign Marco wanted him to stop. Marco put his hand on top of Ax’s head and pushed him down. Ax’s lips traced the path his hands mapped out. Slowly, fervidly, Ax touched every inch of him, his hands and mouth exploring him like everything was new. 

Eventually, even Ax had to take a break. He curled around Marco, who was still lying on his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly while he tried to catch his breath. Ax laid his head on Marco’s shoulder, and his thick, soft hair pillowed against Marco’s face. 

Ax touched his chest again, and slowly traced a finger along Marco’s incisions. They were scarring over, almost fully healed, but they were still red and fresh-looking. Marco realized he was holding his breath while Ax did it.

“You could have come to homeworld for treatment. You didn’t have to do this,” Ax said finally. 

Marco scoffed. “Since when have we been able to trust the Andalites? I know you think our human ways are backwards, but even my war hero status and my princely boyfriend can’t promise me I wouldn’t become an alien science experiment.”

Ax sighed, but he didn’t argue. “Does it hurt?” he asked quietly.

“Not anymore,” Marco said.

“You could morph away these scars, if you wanted to,” Ax said.

Marco shifted up, propped himself up on his elbows, and looked down at himself. “Could I? I’ve been scared to morph since I had surgery.”

“You could have asked,” Ax said, a little Andalite arrogance cutting through his throaty sex voice. 

“Yeah, but that would have spoiled the surprise. Anyway, since when are you a morph doctor?” Marco said. He tilted his head so his cheek rested in Ax’s hair. “I kinda like the scars. After all, we did make it out of the war unscathed.”

“Yes, of course we did,” Ax agreed, maybe facetiously, maybe not. His hand was still resting on Marco’s chest. He must have been immersed in the novelty of the experience. Marco still got a little excited every time he looked down too, so he got it.

“I dunno, it’s just sorta nice that the only scars I’ll have are from something normal. You know?”

“I understand,” Ax said. He ran his hand up and stopped so that it was resting over Marco’s heart. “Andalites also allow themselves to keep scars from significant experiences, sometimes.”

Ax fell silent. Marco thought he’d fallen asleep, but when he looked down, Ax was still looking at Marco’s body, his eyes unfocused. 

“You okay?” Marco asked.

“You’re just changing so much,” Ax said. “Every time I come back to Earth, something is different.”

“I thought you didn’t care what I did to my body,” Marco said, vaguely accusatory. “And that’s rich, considering the first time you went home, when you came back, your human morph was suddenly twenty instead of fourteen. Not that I’m complaining, it was getting weird.”

Ax looked up, and he looked a little sad. “I am missing important parts of your life.”

“Yeah,” Marco agreed. He heard the bitterness rise in his own voice and realized that the disappointment hadn’t waited three days to resurface. “You are. And whose fault is that?”

Ax’s breath hitched in his throat. Marco felt him shifting next to him, saw the blue fur sprout in a wave over his body. When he was fully Andalite, Marco heard his hooves clack, one at a time, against the floor. He left Marco lying in the middle of his huge bed, alone. 


	7. Forlay

Marco hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he’d learned Forlay used to be a geneticist and  _ the _ Escafil had been her  _ shorm _ and research partner and probably more. And in this case, “it” wasn’t how awkwardly hot he found that whole situation.

If there was any Andalite he could trust not to give up any of his secrets, if there was anyone who knew what Andalite medical tech was capable of, if there was any Andalite he  _ knew _ would help him, it was Forlay. And if she couldn’t answer his questions, she had a literal psychic link to a galactically famous doctor who almost certainly could.

All he had to do was ask. 

They could fix him. It was easy. He usually liked things that were easy. He could be just like any other guy. Wasn’t that what he’d always wanted? 

Wasn’t it?

He could already be anyone he wanted to be. He could already have anything he wanted. He could already have  _ a dick _ anytime he felt like it. 

Did he still want to be different?

After everything he’d been through in this body? 

“Forlay?” 

She must have recognized something in his voice, because she actually looked up from her work and regarded him with her main eyes. Her main eyes that looked just like Ax’s. Ax, who only wanted whatever Marco wanted.

All he had to do was ask.

<What, Marco?>

Marco swallowed hard. 

“Nothing,” he said. “Never mind.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my amazing beta, [LilacSolanum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilacSolanum/pseuds/LilacSolanum), who is a constant source of encouragement and humor, and without whom I might never have written this. Thanks to [Catie](http://c-rowlesdraws.tumblr.com/) for reassuring me my drafts were going well, and for helping me with the Aftran chapter (thanks for letting me borrow her). Thanks to [Adrian](http://sonochinosodomy.tumblr.com/) for being kind enough to act as a sensitivity reader for me, because although I am trans, I am not a trans man, and I wanted to get this right. Here's a statement I published about [why I write Marco as trans](http://acavatica.tumblr.com/post/159946616997/my-marco-is-trans-and-its-not-a-big-deal). Please, especially if you are trans, engage with me on [my tumblr](http://acavatica.tumblr.com/), if you want to have any conversations about this fic.


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